Soldiers' Mirror
by GoddessdeFire
Summary: A story about one of the nameless Dragonslayer, Janel. The story tells about how he feels about being a soldier. Some yaoi, stupidity, and suicide. Read and Enjoy!


Hey, it's me Goddess de Fire, been gone for a while. Ugh, I'm sick. I guess that's the curse one gets when not updating. At least I got my music. If any of you are interested in what I listening to its Basement Jaxx "Red Alert". Not something I usually listen to but I like being a little diverse! So this is my new story for the moment. Congrats if you made it this far! I know some people turned away the second they read yaoi. There really aren't any hookups, simply lust. Ah, I'm writing a romance fanfic! Well, here is my sad attempt. It is about one of the nameless slayers. The story starts off bad, gets a little better. Read and Enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne. Never have and probably never will, but that won't stop me from liking Dilandau. I do own Janel though; nobody can stand his immature antics.  
  
Soldiers' Mirror  
  
A crowded room full of teenaged boys stood with worried expressions plastered on their faces. Faces that had seen some of the bloodiest battles and taken the roughest treatment. Yet what they were seeing now seemed impossible. Medics accompanied their presence, kneeling down to the cold body on the ground.  
  
The oldest of the three medics placed his index and middle finger together, lightly searching the boys' messy neck for a pulse. The mans ice blue eyes hoping that his fingers would stop shaking and slipping over his throat. After a few more attempts of finding a sign that he was still alive, the man gave up.  
  
A sad sigh escaped his chapped lips, his fingers reconciled and his fist was gently closed with hesitance. With head bowed and gray strands showing he left the room with his medical bag and partners. The man left the room in a state of depression also.  
  
"What's wrong Dekiff?" asked one of his partners, another man slightly taller with milky brown eyes. Eyes that most thought actually held compassion with the way gray lighting seemed to light them up.  
  
"I knew that dead boy." Dekiff said, his tone lower and dripping with sadness, something he hadn't intended to do.  
  
The man with brown eyes sighed, "This is Zaibach, we are continually fighting and men die when we fight. You need to stop acting like a rookie and not let your emotions slip again."  
  
"Klarro, stop being so rude, I knew the dead boy too, Janel, and what we just saw was a little surprising. Now how about we go have a drink before we need to be leaving for Austria." The third man said kindly, pushing up his glasses with the green lenses placed in gold circles.  
  
"Yeah, let's do that." Dekiff agreed as they headed to the guymelef hangar to go.  
  
"I also agree, I can't pass up a free drink." Smiled Klarro.  
  
"Wait, who is buying your drink?" Ret, the third and smallest men, asked.  
  
"You will little man." Klarro growled out with narrow eyes.  
  
Dekiff sighed; Klarro was a real bastard and could defiantly make the cut of a general. He had just wanted to help people with traveling medicine, not a sword. The three men were quiet as a boy, shorter than Ret, walked quickly past them with red boots clicking.  
  
"I bet he will need one hell of a drink when he leaves that room." Klarro smiled.  
  
Dilandau Albatou had heard that man even as he paced down the hallway of Vione. He had just been interrupted from burning down a village and wanted to know what was happening.  
  
When he reached the room he noticed all his Dragonslayers leaning against the walls on both sides of him. It was a small gray room, with two beds on both sides and something lying down in between the beds. He wasn't ready to look at that, not yet. Instead he was focusing on the fact that his elite soldiers had tears slipping over their cheeks and rosy noses.  
  
The boys were flustered with embarrassment of their emotions, for their occupation never allowed crying. Choked and sniffled sobs were the only sounds in the room. Shesta stepped forward, and then kept taking slow strides to the body. He let himself fall onto his armor-clad knees, ignoring the pain completely.  
  
The blond leaned over the boy and stared down at closed eyes. "You look so peaceful." He whispered to his dead best friend, someone he had entrusted all his secrets with. Memories of those ivy green eyes, hidden by long black lashed now, came into mind. Shesta brushed chin length black bangs from his face. The rest of the dead boys hair cut shorter in the back.  
  
A dribble of blood had trickled down from his faintly smiling pink lips. The crimson so bright and vibrant against his pale, flawless skin. A small stream that sunk into the collar of his blue and black armor. "Oh Janel." Cried Shesta, cupping Janel's face with his hands.  
  
Dilandau stood frozen; he had watched Shesta walk over to the boy. Garnet eyes glanced down and he remained paralyzed. His mouth open, a pitiful gasp wanting to escape in that bastard room. Dilandau felt hot tears seeping from his eyes involuntarily; he bowed his head quickly so no one would see him.  
  
"Leave." He said harsher than had meant to. His emotions were rather unpredictable at the moment.  
  
The Dragonslayers quickly tried to dry their eyes and dismiss the liquid running from their nostrils. Kneeling boys stood unsure if their puffy red eyes would be evidence that they had cried. They left the room with gloved hands smearing the remains of sticky tears over their redden and congested faces. The last blue and black armored boy shutting the door after him.  
  
No one had bothered to clean up the mess. Not a soul would touch a rag to him to clean him up. The Dragonslayer looked so precious and delicate, even entrancing as he lay. Janel was on his back with both arms resting arms up. Drying blood caking the wounds. A puddle on the ground secreting his open, relaxed hands. Janel's slit throat filmed with still fresh warm, liquid.  
  
"His wrists were slit first, his heart was still pumping. Then his throat, his heart slowing and less blood came from his neck." Dilandau muttered to no one. "But with what?"  
  
The demonic object that had done the job slept in his left hand. A dagger of a crystal blade. The hilt a masterful array of smoothed, yet twisted silver. A sapphire jewel kissing the hilt. A dagger given to the most skilled Slayer in knives. Dilandau remembered presenting it to him with a real smile, his left-handed knife-thrower. But where was his Dragonslayer now?  
  
"Why he is laying dead at your feet." he growled out.  
  
Dilandau sank down onto his knees, and then rested on his left hand leaning over Janel. He bent his head down, his lips so close to Janel's. Yet, he was frozen and unable to simply kiss him, the "him" being the troublesome part. He hated to admit it, but this boy had actually made him feel different. Janel had made him question his own sexuality. Dilandau had never felt this way about a boy before.  
  
A boy he could have easily taken advantage over thousands of times. He didn't want to do that though. Even kissing him in a room alone, with him not objecting, made Dilandau feel like he was violating his innocence. Or as much innocence a Dragonslayer could have.  
  
So many times he had wanted to hold him. At first their friendship had him thinking of being his best friend. Then it had manifested itself into wishes of sweet kisses. His damn feelings causing him to withdraw into himself. Yet, Janel always made him feel so calmed and confused.  
  
The albino wanted so many times to tell Janel of the matter. Walk into his quarters and order Shesta out. Tell him in sincere whispers then stay and hold him with his hand in Janels' silky black hair. Softly pressing his lips against Janels', embracing their first kiss.  
  
He would never know now. Know if Janel felt the same way and would have let Dilandau fulfill his fantasies. Sometimes it felt like someone else was thinking of those fantasies and not Dilandau, but he still couldn't deny he wanted Janel. But, Janel had done the unthinkable of a Dragonslayer, he had committed suicide. Something Dilandau couldn't forgive.  
  
~ 1 day ago ~  
  
"They will never let you do that." Laughed Shesta on his bed. He lay resting back on his elbows.  
  
"Oh, how do you know?" his roommate debated with an infectious smile.  
  
The Dragonslayer sighed, "Janel, they will not create a carl-"  
  
"-Car!"  
  
A soft sigh and chuckle, "Fine, a car, would be impossible to make. You only have a brief description on what it looks like. That girl claiming to be from the Mystic Moon also put it into your head. The thing probably doesn't even exist'  
  
"Her name is Hitomi and she was not lying!" he said eyes closed with a hyperactive tone.  
  
"Still don't believe you." Shesta said with mock anger.  
  
"Well fuck you unbeliever!" Janel screamed chucking a stiff pillow at the blond.  
  
A small scream came from his lips as he was attacked. Shesta recovered instantly and grabbed his ammo, Janel and his pillows, then began the great pillow assault with a war cry. Both boys laughed loudly ignoring everything and one else. They were in their own world, a place were best friends often visit when overcome with each other's presence.  
  
Their energy was depleted after a few good hits and screams. Shesta grabbed Janel around the waist and threw him on the nearest bed, which was his, jumped up beside him and laughed about their fun. The conversation drifted on to their new guymelef techniques they had learned and sword moves. Soon it came back to what they had talked about before, the mystical girl and car.  
  
"If she is who she says she is, I could have you in so much trouble." Shesta spoke, laying his head on his best friends shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
"Sure you could Shest." Janel said, calling him by his nickname.  
  
"No, I really could. If I told Lord Dilandau that you saw the Mystic Moon bitch-"  
  
"Hitomi."  
  
"Don't correct me asshole."  
  
"Don't call her a bitch, jackass."  
  
Shesta blinked twice, "Jackass?"  
  
Janel nodded, "Yup, ja-ack-ass." He said sounding out each syllables.  
  
"That's it!" yelled the blond before pouncing on his friend, tickling him through his identical blue undershirt and leather pants.  
  
Janel screamed and yelled, attempting to tickle his attacker back. Suddenly a loud banging occurred on the door. The boys stopped and approached the door slowly, like children playing a game.  
  
"Open up right now!" said the loud voice of Gatti.  
  
Both boys screamed as feminine as they could and ran to their beds laughing. Gattis' shoulders slumped and eyes narrowed as he could tell they were in one of their childish moods. He could hear Janel imitating him on the other side of the metal door. That was one thing that always seemed to piss Gatti off, and Janel had a knack for insulting him. The Slayer was filled with more energy before and beat on the door again with vigor.  
  
"Shesta! Janel! Stop making so much damn noise and go to bed!" the Dragonslayer screamed, then left to go back to his room next door.  
  
The two boys safe in their room changed into their nightclothes. Janel blew out the few candles in the small room. The wax that had been melting down the side of the gray-black candle becoming colder, devoid of its blue flame. Shesta slipped underneath his blue, Dragonslayer issued sheets. Janel got under his own covers and silence pressed between them.  
  
"So.." Janel began, "Do you think Gatti has a stick up his butt or something? Would explain the screaming and all."  
  
Shesta and Janel giggled a little before agreeing that that must be his problem. Once again they were quiet, until Janel began singing a rather random song. He tried to make his voice sound like Gatti screaming as he sung into the quietness of Vione. "I got a stick, up my butt, up my butt, up my butt!"  
  
Gatti twitched under his covers on the other side of the wall they shared. "Truly, it was funny when we were seven but were fifteen now." He whispered to his roommate Rus. Janel sang louder and Rus laughed lightly.  
  
"I can hear you!" said Gatti through the wall.  
  
"Well obviously you need to get Rus to remove that evil stick still." Janel laughed like a smartass.  
  
A loud thump was heard as Gatti banged a fist on the wall that separated them.  
  
"Sounds like Rus got that stick out!" Shesta said loudly. They dissolved into laughter.  
  
"That's it you two, I'm telling Lord Dilandau about this!"  
  
"Oh wow Shest! He's going to tell Lord Dilandau that Rus pulled a stick out of his butt!" Janel laughed.  
  
"Maybe Lord Dilandau will give Rus a Medal of Honor!" Shesta contributed.  
  
Growling came as a warning reply as the boys heard Gatti leave his room. A door slammed and stopping overtook the halls. A small amount of panic reigned over them.  
  
"Do you think?" Shesta asked in a worried tone.  
  
"Hell yeah."  
  
"Can you?"  
  
"Going now." Janel said going out the door into the monotonous hall.  
  
The black haired boy quietly entered the door to his right without knocking. It was pitch-black, but he managed to grope to a bedside. His hand passed over a foot and he kept it there. A small grunt signified a sleeping boy.  
  
"Hey Rus, it's me. Please cover me tonight, you know the favor you owe me?"  
  
".Sure." Came a final reply in the dark.  
  
Janel muttered thanks and ran back to his room. He quickly got under his sheets and pretended to fall asleep. Shesta also fell into a false slumber listening intently to the footfalls down the hall. A growl was heard outside their door.  
  
Banging ensued and Shesta fell right into one of his talents, acting. He half-closed his eyes, a sign he had been "sleeping". He opened the door before it had another chance to be abused.  
  
"Yes?" he asked in a drowsy tone.  
  
Blood-red eyes glared deeply into blue. Shesta widened his eyes in recognition and stood up straight for a second.  
  
"Lord Dilandau." He bowed. 


End file.
